by Tamar Yoseloff
published 1998 by Slow Dancer Books


It is a striking debut . . . there is much eloquent discussion of memory and the organs in our bodies that give us life. Yoseloff’s writing has a combination of deference and bite, as though it’s a voice that is active and passive at the same time.

––Daniel Paddington, Time Out

Her gift is to make the outlandish look accidental, in a conjunction of love and creativity achieved with warmth and witty ironies.

––John Forth, London Magazine

The monologue, in both its personal-reflective and character-based forms, is not currently a la mode, which makes it all the more pleasing to find Yoseloff using the genre in so bold and blazing a fashion. She knows better than to toy shamelessly with the voices of the dead; her invented personae are bright and motley enough – a painter who specializes in dead pets, the owner of a Hicksville Marian shrine, a woman who falls for a freak-show giant.

––Roddy Lumsden, Times Literary Supplement


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